Mr. Black's Proposal

by Aubrey Dark

  “It’s not okay!” I said. “I can’t keep this up, I can’t.”

  “You don’t have to.”

  “I do!” I ripped away from his chest and stood at arm’s length. “Rent went up, and if we lose the Perq contract, that’s it! We’re fucking done for! It’ll all be over!”

  Lucas still had one hand on my arm, cradling my elbow. It felt so good. I hated that it felt so good. I didn’t want him to be able to make me feel good like that, to have that kind of power over me. He brushed my hair back and looked me right in the face. I’d looked at his eyes before, but never like this.

  “Listen to me.”

  “What?”

  “Remember I told you about my first magazine? Hey, listen. It’s the same thing, Steph.”

  “Oh, really?”

  “Really. The second time, you know what was different?”

  “What?”

  “There was an older guy who headed up the editing department for Vogue. He sat me down and told me exactly what I was doing wrong. And he offered to bankroll me if I started again.”

  I blinked at Lucas, unsure what he was getting at.

  “I didn’t want to take his help, God knows. I wanted to do things my way, without anyone helping.”

  That sounded familiar.

  “But eventually I broke down and let him help me get started. You can’t do everything yourself, Steph. You just can’t.”

  My chin sank down to my chest and sobs shuddered my body. That’s exactly what I’d been doing. I hadn’t even let Andy come in to help me, because I didn’t want him to be as tired as I was. I didn’t let anyone else do anything if I could do it.

  He put his hands on mine and kissed my forehead.

  “Let me tell you what’s going to happen, okay?”

  “Okay.” I hated how weak I sounded.

  “I’m going to steal you away from here—”

  “No! I have to finish this batch before tomorrow.”

  “Shh. Listen. I’m going to steal you away from here and Andy is going to finish for you. And tomorrow you’re going to take my investment capital and hire an assistant and start looking for a new location to expand to.”

  “But…”

  “Don’t.” Lucas spoke firmly, and I shut my mouth. “When I offered to invest in your company, it’s because I thought you had a good idea going,” Lucas said. “You’re obviously very smart and capable. I want to help you grow your company. But—hey, listen. Listen.”

  I choked back another sob and sniffled into his handkerchief.

  “It has absolutely nothing to do with you and me personally. It has nothing to do with our relationship. Okay? That’s totally separate. You don’t ever have to go on another date with me again if you don’t want to. I still want to invest in this bakery.”

  I burst out in exhausted tears. He was so sweet, and I was the biggest idiot in the world for fucking everything up. Here he had come to talk to me, and I was crying and rambling like a complete moron.

  “Come on,” he said. “Let’s get you to bed.”

  I was too tired to even agree with more than a weak nod. I tried to stand up and stumbled. Before I could even straighten myself up, he scooped me up into his arms.

  “Lucas—”

  “Shhh,” he said. “Shhh. Let me.”

  My head fell against his chest. So warm. So strong. I could hear his heart beating as he carried me out of the back bakery and started up the stairs to my apartment. I remember feeling safe, feeling protected, and then my eyes closed and I was asleep before we’d even reached the door.

  When I woke up the next morning, I rubbed my eyes. I felt… different. Not tired. I was in my bed, but I didn’t remember going to sleep. Then I saw my clothes piled up on the floor next to my bed. I peeked under the sheets and saw that I was naked.

  A knock at the door made me shriek.

  “Steph?”

  I clamped my lips shut on my shriek. The door swung in and Lucas came in carrying a tray piled high with pancakes. My jaw dropped. What was Lucas doing here?

  “What time is it?” Now that my eyes had refocused, I could see light streaming in through the window.

  “It’s breakfast time.”

  “No, really.” I started to get out of bed, then realized I was naked. “You have to leave. I have work! I have to get dressed—”

  “Your brother is taking care of the bakery today.”

  “My brother? All by himself?” That was almost worse. My heart was going a million miles a minute.

  “And I asked Alex to come help him out. They’ll be fine as long as they can keep their hands off each other.” Lucas grinned. “I think Andy will be very happy to be running the shop today.”

  “Okay.” I was breathing in and out, trying to calm myself down.

  “Okay?”

  “Okay, let’s talk about something else.”

  “Sure.” Lucas set the breakfast tray down on the end table and sat on the side of the bed. I pulled the sheets up to my chin.

  “Like, for instance, why I’m naked.”

  “I couldn’t put you to bed with your clothes on, could I?”

  “Yes. Yes, you could.”

  “It’s nothing I haven’t seen before.”

  “I don’t even remember you bringing me upstairs. How did you do all that without waking me up?” I stared at him suspiciously.

  “You did it with a week of all-nighters, if your brother is telling the truth. You were out like a light. I couldn’t have woken you up if I’d tried.”

  “You didn’t want to try?” Even after all that, it still hurt to feel like he’d rejected me yet again.

  “Not when you needed the rest.”

  He looked at me like I was fragile, and again I felt the urge to let him take over. He could take care of me. He could take care of all of this. I thought about what I’d said the night before and cringed.

  “I’m sorry,” I said.

  “You don’t have anything to be sorry for.”

  “Thank you.” I inhaled deeply and let out a shaky breath. “I can’t… I can’t thank you enough.” Oh God, now I was tearing up again.

  “How about you come over for a lunch date today?” Lucas asked. “Then you can thank me a little more while I put food in you.”

  My stomach growled and I looked down, mortified.

  “Sounds like you need it. I’ll be back at one o’clock to pick you up,” Lucas said. “And Steph?”

  “Yeah?”

  “Get some clothes on,” he said, winking once before disappearing out the door.

  Chapter Eight

  Lucas

  When I came back to pick her up, she was wearing a bright spring dress. It was pink and yellow and it flared out over her luscious hips, tempting me to put my hands around her waist and pick her up. I stood in the doorway, stamping down the temptation.

  “You look beautiful,” I said. She’d put on makeup to hide her weariness. Even with dark circles under her eyes, though, she was as beautiful as she’d ever been. The passion in her eyes, the intelligence behind her sweet smile, they all shone through.

  “I didn’t know where we were going,” she said, gesturing down at her dress.

  “I thought we’d just have lunch back at my apartment.” I held out my arm and she put her hand on it tentatively. I could tell she was unsure about this new relationship between us. I didn’t want to rush her. More than that, I didn’t want her to feel like I was pushing her into anything she didn’t want to do.

  “Sure,” she said, a forced brightness in her voice. “That sounds good.”

  We drove back to my apartment. She sat primly on a stool next to the kitchen counter. Her hands clasped tightly on the counter.

  “What’s for lunch?” she asked.

  I pulled out the stuff I had in my fridge, waving the ingredients around with panache as I set them out on the chopping board.

  “Today we have a lovely arugula and strawberry salad starter with… uh, crumbled blue chee
se as a topping. And toasted walnuts!”

  I pulled out a pan and tossed the nuts over a low flame as I got the bowls of salad ready.

  “But that’s not all,” I said.

  “Oh?” Her eyebrow quirked.

  “For a main dish, we’ll have roasted heirloom cherry tomatoes in fresh fettuccine, tossed with cracked pepper and olive oil, if that pleases you.”

  “Mmmm,” she said. Her stomach growled again and she clamped her hands to her stomach, her eyes widening.

  “I’ll take that as a yes,” I said.

  The salad was finished already, and I sprinkled the walnuts on top, serving out both bowls with a flourish. The pasta boiled quickly and I strained it, adding in dashes of seasoning as I went.

  “You look like you know what the hell you’re doing,” Steph said.

  “I’m just making it all up as I go,” I said. “Maybe you should be the one in charge.”

  “Oh, hell no!” She laughed. “I’m a baker. Don’t let me near actual food.”

  “Then you can’t complain if the fettuccine is underdone,” I warned, serving up the plates.

  “Never,” she said.

  I pulled a chair out next to her, and we dug in.

  “This is perfect,” she said, her mouth half-full with the pasta. There was a drip of olive oil near her bottom lip, and I dabbed it away with a quick swipe. She flushed pink.

  “Thank you,” she said.

  We sat in silence for a minute. It was a comfortable silence, and I hated to break it, but I wanted to talk with her about something that had been bothering me ever since she’d brought it up.

  “You asked about my family before,” I said.

  “Oh. Hey, I didn’t mean to pry.” Steph put her hand over her mouth and swallowed. “Just ignore me. That’s what everyone else does.”

  “No, it’s okay. I didn’t really know how to talk about it before. Nobody’s ever asked.”

  She raised her eyebrows but didn’t say anything. I realized how crazy it was then that none of my girlfriends had ever asked about my family. They didn’t care at all about me—all they cared about was the money. Steph was the only one who actually had any interest in my background.

  “My dad was… well, he was like me. Too charming for his own good.” I laughed nervously. “He slept around with a lot of women.”

  She winced.

  “Only difference was, he didn’t use protection a lot of the time.”

  “Do you have a lot of half-brothers and sisters then?”

  Steph forked another bite of her pasta, listening to me intently.

  “That’s the thing. I don’t know.”

  “What do you mean?”

  “I don’t have any idea how many siblings I have. My mom didn’t want me to know my dad or have anything to do with him. I guess after he broke her heart, she didn’t want him to be a part of our lives.”

  “So you never met him?”

  “I met him once, when I was eighteen and my mom couldn’t keep his name a secret from me anymore. We met up at this dive bar, a real shithole. And I asked him that, if I had any brothers or sisters, but he just shrugged. He was… you know what?”

  “What?”

  “To be honest, he was kind of an asshole. Now that I look back on it. I wanted him to be this great dad, but he didn’t even care about me. He wasn’t interested in my photography or my life. He didn’t want to know anything about me. He just didn’t care at all.”

  “Wow. That’s insane.”

  “I don’t know if it’s because he had so many kids he couldn’t care about all of them, or what. Maybe I have brothers out there, or sisters. But I was raised as an only child, and I’ve always thought of myself that way.”

  “I’m sorry,” she said.

  “Sorry? Sorry for what?”

  “That thing I said at Jake’s dinner party. About being lucky not to have a brother. I didn’t realize…”

  “Oh come on. You didn’t realize.”

  “Exactly.”

  “And now you do.”

  Steph pressed her lips together.

  “It doesn’t matter. I shouldn’t have said that.”

  “You need to be a little easier on yourself,” I said. “It’s okay to make mistakes.”

  She let out a puff of air.

  “I guess so. After all, neither one of us had great role models, it sounds like.”

  “Cheers, then,” I said, lifting my wine glass. “To starting over fresh.”

  “To doing better than our parents,” Steph said.

  “We sure as hell can’t do worse.”

  We both laughed, and the tension in the air dissipated.

  There was darkness in both our lives. Hard things to deal with in both our pasts. But somehow, sitting next to her with a bowl of pasta, I didn’t feel like it was all that dark after all. It felt like the sun was coming in through the window for the first time.

  We finished up lunch with a slice of chocolate cheesecake I’d gotten from the bakery down the street. I rinsed the dishes off in the sink. Steph leaned over the kitchen counter, her face as angelic as ever.

  “You know what turns me on?” she asked, then answered without waiting for a response. “Guys who do the dishes.”

  She smiled a quick smile, as though she was testing the waters. I held up a plate and rubbed it seductively with the sponge.

  “Is that right?” I said in my most erotic voice.

  “Ooh, baby.”

  I grinned at her. My cock was aching for her, but at the same time I knew what would happen if I rushed things again. I set the plates and bowls away and gave a short bow. She clapped her hands in mock praise.

  “Well, I hate to eat and run but I’ve got to get to work,” I said.

  Her face fell.

  “Oh.”

  “What’s the matter?”

  “Nothing. Are you doing a photo shoot?”

  I paused. I could tell her the truth - that I was shooting a lingerie ad with a half dozen models. Or I could cover it up. Before I’d met Steph, that kind of decision would be a no-brainer. But now that I was thinking about her more seriously, I didn’t want to lie to her.

  “Yes.”

  She nodded, a knowing kind of nod, then laughed once.

  “Well, I guess that means you’re kicking me out.”

  “I didn’t mean that.”

  “I don’t understand you, Lucas.”

  I clenched my jaw.

  “There really isn’t anything to understand. I have to go to work.”

  “This is twice now that you’ve kicked me out of your place.”

  “That’s not true.”

  “It is.” She looked down at her empty glass. “I don’t know if you’re trying to let me down easy because you’re not interested anymore or… or…”

  “Wait a minute,” I said. “What on earth gave you the idea that I’m not interested?”

  “You did!”

  “What? How?”

  “By kicking me out. Jesus, Lucas, I was ready to strip down to nothing for you at the end of our date. And you just brushed me off.”

  “You were drunk.”

  “I knew what I was doing.”

  “I didn’t.”

  “Excuse me, but what the hell, Lucas?”

  I blinked. Of all of the reactions I’d expected, this wasn’t one of them.

  “What?”

  She threw her hands up in the air.

  “It’s impossible to understand you! The first time you met me, you leaned over the counter with that sexy glare of yours and told me you wanted to tame me. And now you’re playing hard to get, like you’re some kind of asexual Catholic schoolboy. Is this just a game to you?”

  The shock that came through me was almost a physical pain.

  “No! Of course not!”

  “Then why? Why are you pulling back? Do I have to beg you to sleep with me?”

  I pressed my hand against my forehead.

  “No, look, I—”
/>
  I cut myself off and took a hard pause. I wanted to make sure I said this right.

  “It’s not that I don’t want you, Steph,” I said.

  “Could have fooled me.”

  “You know what? This isn’t fair. You have no idea what I’ve been through in the dating world.”

  “Oh really? Poor Mr. Black, having to fend off the supermodels with his gold-tipped walking cane. I can only imagine the problems you have. I bet most of your foursomes don’t fit completely on your California King mattress, is that it?”

  She was joking, but it was one joke too many. A burst of anger punched through me.

  “You have no idea, Steph.”

  “Then tell me.”

  She stared at me over the counter. And I knew that if this was serious, if we had any shot of making this work, I couldn’t hide the truth from her.

  “When I started in this business, I loved it. I admit that. I loved the girls, I got dates by the handful. And yeah, threesomes if I wanted. Everybody wants a piece of you if you’re successful like I’m successful.”

  “And?”

  “And it sucks!”

  “Oh, come on.”

  “Really,” I said, leaning forward. “I never can tell if a girl wants me because she actually cares about me, or if it’s because of what I do. Every date I take out, I’m always listening for the first mention when she lets me know what she really wants. She tells me she’s a model and what do I think about maybe taking some photos of her? I even had one girl bring her portfolio on the first date.”

  “That’s… that’s horrible,” Steph said. “They really do that?”

  “Worse! I had one girl, after she gave me a blowjob she looked up and said Will you get my picture into Vogue now? What am I supposed to say to that?”

  Steph’s eyes widened.

  “You know the worst part?” I asked, pushing on. “There was one girl I met maybe two years ago. I liked her. I mean, I really liked her. I thought I loved her. Maybe I did love her.”

  “What happened?”

  “We were dating for a few weeks, and then I was at this club with her, and another younger girl flirted with me. And she didn’t even say anything, like she was going to ignore it. But I couldn’t ignore it. It made me mad; I didn’t know why, but it did. And you know what I did?”

  “What?”

  “I took that other girl to the back of the club, in one of the VIP rooms. I fucked her right there.”